The Beginning
by Tippet
Summary: When Arata is eighteen, he takes the title of Meijin from Hisashi Suo.


When Arata is eighteen, he takes the title of Meijin from Hisashi Suo.

It is the best game that he has ever played. Arata is all fluid lines and tight control, years of training honing him into the edge of a blade. He has made up for the time lost in junior high. No, it is more than that—the Arata of today that plays Suo is like the crash of a tidal wave, great and inevitable.

Arata can feel the tatami mat humming from beneath his fingertips as he kneels, poised to strike at the card reader's cue. Suo appraises Arata with lidded eyes as the reader sings the line. The score is at 12-15, and it is Arata's lead. Though the weight of Suo's gaze is palpable, Arata ignores him and forces his attention to the cards. He must not lose focus-it is too late for that.

"Kimi ga tame," the reader recites, and even as she draws a breath Arata knows what the next word will be. His grandfather had once told him that the karuta god would whisper the next word into his ear, but the voice that rings through Arata's head is his grandfather's—"Haru," he commands—and Arata's arm is lighter than air when he sends the card flying.

Suo stares at his retreating back as he goes to retrieve the card. The card reader's voice does not waver as she finishes singing, "Haru no no ni idete/ Wakana tsumu/ Waga koromode ni/ Yuki wa furitsutsu."

Arata curls his hands into fists as he kneels before his opponent again. _I will not lose_, he thinks. There is a murkiness in Hisashi Suo's eyes, an unsurety where there was none before. When Suo senses that he is being cornered, he transforms into an animal, cagey and vicious. One turn, he slams Arata's wrist into the ground so hard that it immediately purples into a bruise. Suo watches Arata with arrogant eyes as he claims the card for himself; Arata remains calm, and rotates his wrist gingerly before settling into his stance again. Arata is stronger than Hisashi Suo, can feel it in the swiftness of his mind and the agility of his responses. Arata loves karuta; Arata _is _karata, and there is nothing that will stand in his way of reaching the highest of heights. At the first syllable of the next card, Arata's fingers leap of their own accord as though pulled taut by strings and claim a card—_Chihaya's card_, Arata notes vaguely—before adding it to the growing pile.

The rest of the game is a blur, and later, Arata remembers nothing but the thud of his arm, the billowing of his yukata as he swings through the air. He is as fast as lightning and as dangerous. He does not fault.

There is a stunned silence when it is over.

"Arigatou gozaimasu," Arata says first, registering blankly that there are no cards left on his side. He bows deeply, his forehead coming to rest on the ground. He is crying. He has nothing left—he has given everything he has to this game, and there is no regret.

Suo does not look at him. His face is contorted with shock and something else—rage?—as though he cannot believe that he has been dethroned. The silence stretches on for several long, heavy minutes before Suo finally bows to Arata. "Arigatou gozaimasu," he says, voice brittle.

When Arata gets to his feet, the spectators explode with cheers and suddenly, there is a roar in his ears and Arata can't breathe. The announcer hands him the trophy and all Arata can think is _Grandfather, I've done it._ The trophy is heavy, wrought with meaning in a way that outweighs all of the other awards that Arata has amassed combined.

"WATAYA ARATA HAS DETHRONED SIX YEAR CHAMPION HISASHI SUO," the announcer is yelling into his microphone. "A NEW AGE IN KARUTA HAS SURELY BEGUN—"

But the rest is lost to Arata as he stumbles from the tatami mat and embraces his parents before turning to Chihaya, who is crying so hard she can hardly speak. Taichi is beside her, a flicker of resignation crossing his face a beat too slow to go unnoticed before he grins at Arata, honest and raw. The cameras converge on Suo as he gives his concession speech and Arata is grateful for the moment of privacy before the inevitable pandemonium of the aftermath.

Chihaya has dressed in a kimono for his match, the blue and red one that she wore to compete in the National Champion semifinals this year. Arata finds that he cannot speak as he sets the trophy down and reaches blindly for her, suddenly overcome with what this victory means not only for him but also for Chihaya.

"Arata," cries Chihaya, disappearing into Arata's embrace. "Arata," again and again. It is the only thing she says, and every time she calls his name, Arata falls deeper and deeper into this girl who has changed everything.

"Chihaya," Arata manages to say. "Thank you."

The air is suddenly tight with all the things unsaid—_thank you for bringing me back to karuta, for your faith and for your friendship, thank you, thank you_—and then Chihaya is kissing him and crying at the same time, and all Arata can think is that this is what has been missing all along. Their noses collide before sliding into place and Arata feels like he is coming apart at the seams.

Then, just as suddenly, Chihaya retreats and puts her hands over her mouth. "Oh Arata," she says, frightened, "I didn't mean to, I'm sorry—"

"I'm not," Arata says. "Sorry," he adds, and when the reporters pull him away, he has eyes only for Chihaya, who has gone still. Her hair has fallen out of its ponytail in the excitement and her face is streaked with tears, but still she is the most beautiful thing he has seen, and she is here, and his.

His heart in his throat, Arata turns and faces the cameras as the youngest Meijin in the history of Japan. The world is at his fingers, he thinks.

This is just the beginning.


End file.
